Sunday, September 20, 2009


Yesterday afternoon, I had Mademoiselle and Amica with hubby and kids over at my place. After all, the KGB agents had sternly reminded me that they had never been to my flat. Obviously, I wanted to be in their good books and therefore decided to go for kids-friendly food and presentation thereof:
honey, I fed the kids (onemorehandbag) Well, I should have anticipated that light-switches, sockets and sofa cushions were infinitely more attractive than heart-shaped sandwiches and muffins, but at least the cross-examining was up to its usual standard. While the parents cringed, I couldn't stop laughing about the endless game of "But OURS is better/bigger", which I assume they picked up in kindergarten. It goes like this: "Do you have a bedroom for guests?". "Yep, I do, do you want to see it?" "So small? OURS is MUCH bigger." "Do you have a study?" "Well, I have a room that I use as study and spare bedroom." "WE have SEPARATE rooms for that!" "Do you have a car/oven/microwave/washer-dryer/weekend-house...?" And on and on.

Admitting to one's inadequateness has rarely been so much fun.


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